


Blessed

by wreathed



Category: British Comedy RPF
Genre: Church Sex, Dream Sex, Ficlet, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-18
Updated: 2011-11-18
Packaged: 2017-10-26 05:49:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/279431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wreathed/pseuds/wreathed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mis-use of a prie-dieu. Plotless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blessed

Inside the church, David’s footsteps echo.

He might have filmed here once, he thinks. That sketch for _Situation_ , in which David’s the priest and Rob’s the penitent yet David’s somehow the one who ends up confessing.

Leaving the nave, he opens a door to a small, dark room. A screenless prie-dieu stands in wait.

“Why are you here?” asks a familiar voice, far sterner than usual, from the corner most cast in shadow. “Have you come to atone?”

“Yes.”

The stubble’s there, just the way David likes it, and the dark clothes, jutting from the shadows of the room.

“Tell me what’s on your mind.”

The pseudo-Catholic details are disconcerting – school was vaguely Anglican; David doesn’t know the act of contrition. They had used the General Confession in assemblies on holy days, how did it go? _Almighty and most merciful Father; we have erred..._

“I want a man.”

“Just any man?”

“No,” David sighs. _As well you know._

“Which man?”

“His name is... I know it’s you there, Charlie.” He clears his throat. “You. I want you.” For it is Charlie who stands opposite him; David can see more than Charlie thinks he can, and he’d recognise his voice anywhere.

“What do you mean ‘want’, David?” Charlie asks. His voice teeters on the edge of sarcasm, even in a role as serious as this. “What do you want Charlie to do with you?”

Blushing, David averts his eyes from Charlie's. “I can’t say,” David manages, feeling choked.

“Why?” Charlie asks, and David feels the heat within him rise even further as he thinks about Charlie, Charlie standing there when he’s feeling like this.

“I don’t want to say when I’m- I’m so hard.”

“Use my name when you’re talking to me. What are you, David?”

“I’m hard. Charlie. Because of you.”

“Just from this?” Charlie asks, and David bows his head in shame.

“I need you to kneel,” Charlie tells him, and David dutifully takes the appropriate position on the prie-dieu. “And now I am going to ask you again, David. What do you want me to do?”

David can feel his erection pushing against his trousers, neglected. He has to swallow before he admits. “I want you to take control.”

“Now, that,” says Charlie, “I already knew.”

Charlie steps closer. David, too turned on to think too much, pushes the heel of his hand against his cock for a few blissful seconds, sighing as a little tension dissipates.

“No,” says Charlie, quite dangerously. “I want you to leave that alone. You’re going to need your hands to pray.”

For a moment, Charlie looks as if he wants to laugh.

“Raise your hands, David, and place them together.”

And David feels electric, brilliant, as his knees start to hurt from resting on the wood of the prie-dieu and he brings his hands up to clasp them together. Knowing he cannot touch, his need to do so becomes, as he expected, all the greater.

“Well done,” says Charlie approvingly. “Now, I’m hard too, so I’m going to fuck your face. Is that OK, David?”

He swears Charlie must be able to hear how loud his heart starts beating.

“ _Yes_. Charlie.”

Staring straight ahead, David can feel Charlie’s hand on his chin as Charlie guides his cock into David’s willing, waiting mouth. (David stays as still as possible.)

He has the most beautiful cock, does Charlie, and David keeps his eyes open (Charlie would like that) as he relaxes, lets Charlie push all the way in until David’s lips are wrapped around the base of his cock and David, perversely, gets ever harder.

Slowly, wonderfully slowly, Charlie withdraws, his hands gentle in David’s hair, and then Charlie pushes back in again and David _moans_.

Smoothly, Charlie fucks David’s mouth. Still, David keeps his hands palm to palm, even as he feels spit and precome spread messily over his lips and chin and his knees begin to shake. He looks up at Charlie, and Charlie looks blissful. Good, David thinks.

He might not have ever been this hard before, he starts to wildly consider, to be like this feels near-impossible – he moans again as he shifts position slightly and his cock brushes against his underwear; Charlie moans back and speeds up – but he knows he’s not going to get to come until Charlie does, and _maybe not even then_ , and he does so want Charlie to come, never mind his own arousal, because Charlie’s great and David probably doesn’t even deserve him anyway. So he lets Charlie move even faster, thrust more erratically, taking David’s mouth completely until he’s got what he needs.

Charlie comes copiously down David’s throat with a low groan, past his slick, bright lips, and outside the church David hears lightning or something, and–

 

–David awakens, achingly hard; it’s a shock to find himself lying flat on his back instead of kneeling, and alone.


End file.
